Must Come To An End
by EDreams
Summary: [Bob and George] From Chadling to Helmut, from imitations to imprisonment, a growing collection of unrelated Bob and George oneshots dedicated to the famous webcomic.
1. Models

"Hey, Mega Man," said George in a way that was unusually thoughtful, sitting on the side of a canister of ice cream too large for any refrigerator to hold. "Is there anything else you do around here?"

"Besides ice cream and talking?" Mega Man replied, climbing out of that same inhumanly sized canister. "Well, the games, and those guys that the Author sends out now and then. Why?"

"Nothing much, just thinking..."

"Thinking's boring. That's why I don't think."

And Mega Man went back down as if there wasn't anything unusual about this conversation, and George just thought some more, putting a gloved hand to his chin for no reason than it just looked better and that's what thinking people did in the movies.

"Hey, Chadling," said George in a way that was unusually thoughtful, looking at one of the ice cream containers next to him.

"Fgh, Frorje!" the canister responded automatically before a spiked head looked outside. George seemed not to hear, or at least he was used to it by now and understood perfectly.

"What is it?" says Chadling, scraping some of the ice cream off his face with a claw.

"Oh, I was just thinking."

Chadling shook his head, clearly worried.

"That sounds bad. I wouldn't do that."

"I'm serious, guys!" yelled George, throwing his hands into the air and almost toppling in. "I was thinking about what my mom used to talk about!"

"What's a 'mom'?" replied Chadling. "Is that like Mynd?"

George visibly shuddered at that, to the slight confusion of Chadling.

"No, no," George explained, wondering how to explain mothers and fathers and birth without even realizing why Chadling was clueless. "Definitely not like Mynd."

"So what is a 'mom'?"

"It's, uh, you know... That person who gives birth to you."

Chadling frowned, that answer answering nothing, and scratched his forehead with one of his claws. And then tried to avoid wincing, remembering why he didn't like thinking.

"But what's 'birth'?" he asked blankly.

George frowned, the sounds of Mega Man eating not helping to turn any gears. He didn't know how to explain birth or moms! They were just... there. Like breathing.

"I don't know how to explain it," he admitted quietly, more to himself, and Chadling shrugged and buried himself in the canister.

George kicked his feet childishly and put a hand on his chin again, and thought some more, tuning out the noises of his friends eating in the background, and that vague noise in the background of shattering glass and what was probably a drunk Dr. Light.

"Moms are the older people you grow up with, and you wouldn't exist without them," he thought, but as far as he knew they didn't grow up. He tried again, something less fanciful that he was more used to.

"Moms are those big vague blobs with huge red eyes that scream at you about what colleges you need to go to and tell you to do stuff all your life, and they're supposed to be healthy for you, like vegetables," he concluded as he grabbed some ice cream out of the container. It was an accurate description, but not a good one. They didn't have colleges or vegetables. Swallowing the ice cream, he grabbed some more and tried again.

"Moms give you superpowers and plastic shielding and expect you to chase your misbehaving older brother through dimensions," he thought. These were getting worse and worse. The only conclusion he had reached now, the more he thought about it, was "Moms suck", which wasn't helpful. Mynd was looking like a better simile every minute, even if it gave him the uncomfortable and definitely stereotypical image of Mynd wearing a frilly pink apron as he baked cookies and pinched Chadling's cheeks.

"Very good, dear!" said the stereotype in Mynd's deep, villainous growl. George shuddered again. The image of Mynd as a vague black blob with a beam sword yelling at Chadling to stop being lazy and get to college wasn't a lot better, even if it was a little more accurate to Moms he knew. He grabbed some more ice cream to get his mind off it and help him think of a better comparison.

"Fey, Frogje! Vy frill-" mumbled the container next to him after a few minutes, before Chadling popped out of it again. "-want to know what a Mom is. Do you know yet?"

"Yeah, what are those?" repeated Mega Man, even though he knew he'd probably forget. "Are they like robot masters or power-ups?"

George chose the best analogy he could think of. And now that he thought about it, it was really accurate. Why didn't he realize it before?

"Birth is kind of like, err, being turned on for the first time," he explained. "And your Mom is like the person who turns you on, and tells you what you're supposed to do."

"Like Dr. Light?"

"So like Mynd! I told you!"

"Yeah, I guess..." he said quietly, frowning again as he leaned backwards, upside-down, to grab another scoop. He should have thought about it. They were robots, of course, but it wasn't a fact he thought about a lot. Even when he leaned over and he was inches away from Mega Man's face, it wasn't really that clear. He couldn't tell the difference between any person and Mega Man. Even Mega Man and himself, from his memory of what he looked like.

"Something wrong, George?" asked the upside-down-but-only-to-George Mega Man. George chose not to dwell on how worried Mega Man clearly looked, the raise of his eyebrow, the perfect movement of mouth-to-speech, the clear frown that looked like a smile from this perspective.

"Nah, it's nothing. I was just thinking some more."

"You do that a lot," said Mega Man as George pulled himself up.

"Can't help it," said George, who looked at Chadling as he got back up. He was scratching his head again, this time smartly avoiding the use of his claw.

"So you got turned on?" he asked. "So you're a robot?"

"No!" he yelled louder than necessary, and the scoop he was holding fell onto the floor below. "Why would I-"

He almost said "want to be a robot?", if only because he could never imagine George the cyborg, but quickly caught himself.

"I mean," he corrected in a way that was completely sure of himself, "of course I'm not a robot. I, uh, breathe..."

"Breathe?" repeated Mega Man. "I breathe! Ventilation counts, right?"

George thought about it, and it sort of did make sense. In a way, robots do breathe, even if it doesn't work the same or serve the same purpose. But then what did he have that robots didn't have? And why was it bothering him so much when it never had before?

"Well, yeah," he admitted as he reached down to get more ice cream. "I guess it counts. But I have other things that make me different. Like Dr. Light! He's not a robot, right?"

Mega Man nodded.

"Mostly."

George nearly slipped from where he was sitting, almost falling off.

"Mostly?!" he repeated, wondering if Mega Man even knew what he was talking about. Dr. Light was a robot or a cyborg and George didn't even know? That didn't make sense!

"Yeah, mostly," said Mega Man, completely calmly. "He has that giant robot transformation thing he does. That counts as a robot, right?"

George sighed, glad he was talking about that.

"Not really. He's still a human. I think that's something else. But you know they're not the same, right?"

"I guess," replied Mega Man, "it's not something I've thought about."

George nodded and thought some more, and it was quiet again for a few minutes.

"Hey, George," said Chadling, for once not muffled by a probably unhealthy amount of ice cream. When George looked over, Chadling was sitting on the edge of the container, the same way he was. "Did your Mom ever fight with you or use you to test stuff?"

"Yeah, a few times," he responds, leaning back slightly. "The fighting part, that is, but I think all kids have fights with their parents. Especially the snobby ones."

"Oh," replied Chadling simply, leaning back slightly. "Did your Mom use a beam sword?"

Huh? Where did that come from? His mom never did anything like THAT when they arg...

"Oh," he said, figuring out what Chadling had meant. "I see what you mean. My mom never did anything like that. We argued sometimes, but it was just words, and she raised me to be smart, not to fight things."

Mega Man snickered below, George ignored it, and Chadling looked what could only be described as disappointed.

"That's too bad," he said sadly. "I always thought fights with Mynd were fun, except when I got stabbed in the eye one time. And I got shot there once too."

George could never see fighting his Mom as fun. Much less if she used a sword. Was fighting normally fun for robots?

"Why would fighting the person who made you be fun?" he asked.

"I don't know," admitted Chadling. "Except for the times where I got stabbed or shot, it just was. Which happened a lot, so I guess it wasn't that fun. Actually, it really wasn't that fun at all... I don't even know why I think it's fun. I guess it was sort of, sometimes, but generally I don't think I liked it that much. Maybe? I didn't like fighting him when he attacked at all..."

Chadling put a claw against his forehead.

"I'm getting a headache. And it's not from the ice cream."

Regardless, Chadling climbed off the edge of and went right back into the container. George put a hand to his chin again, but fighting with Mom definitely didn't sound like something that would be fun a lot of the time. And all the thoughts of arguments with Mom were making him uncomfortable. She was pretty scary sometimes.

"Do you think fighting is fun, Mega Man?" George couldn't help but ask. "I know you did it all the time in the games."

"Yeah!" said Mega Man, who had gotten too deep into the container and was currently trying to climb back out. "That's when I get to be smart and clever and funny and stuff, and the explosions are pretty awesome. I like just sitting around and eating ice cream with you guys, but I like the other stuff I do too. And all the people I fight are evil."

Sounded like an odd sort of logic to him, but then again, Mega Man didn't fight people he knew personally or liked. Unless it was Helmut pretending to be Mega Man, but he wasn't sure if that was a good or even relevant topic to discuss. Mega Man asked an expected question before George could say anything anyways.

"You enjoy it, don't you?"

George thought about it, thinking further and further back through fights he had been in. It came with being a superhero, of course, (and it had been a long, long time since the last time he thought of himself as that) but it was about as good of a job for him as flipping burgers. He just had superpowers. Mega Man finally climbed out and sat next to him on the edge.

"Well, usually," he said out loud, and if the Author was actually using this in a comic, there'd be a flashback right about now, "I'm fighting my brother or my friends are on the line, or the evil plot is going to cause the end of the world or something. Sometimes all three."

He didn't even want to start on crossing the streams.

"All of Wily's evil plots are about world domination," Mega Man agreed.

"Yeah, villains aren't very imaginative," said George, nodding. "But I never really liked fighting."

"But don't you like the explosions?"

"Most of the people I've fought don't explode."

"Boring," Mega Man sighed, climbing down the container to go get another one. George didn't get off, perfectly fine with where he was, but Chadling climbed up instead and sat in the same place Mega Man had been.

"What did your Mom talk about?" he asked. George couldn't remember seeing either of them this curious about something. "Mine just talked about world domination and dimensional portals and light switches."

Light switches? The Author probably had something to do with that. Just his kind of joke.

"Well," George explained, thinking about his mother. "Mine talked about college and grades and getting a wife and a better job, like most Moms, I think."

"What are those?" Chadling asked, reminding George how hard these things were to explain to a robot. "Mynd never talked about those."

"Well, back in my dimension," he tried, "the most important thing you're supposed to do is get money. You can't get anything without money."

"I know what that is," said Chadling with an expression that could only be pride, "but Mynd never used it. He got all his stuff without it. I think he called it 'borrowing without asking' or something."

"Well, yeah," George continued, knowing how obvious it was that Mynd just stole everything, "but most people get jobs to earn their money, and they need it to survive. That's why my Mom wanted me to get a good job."

"I think Mynd would have wanted me to borrow everything. It sounds easier."

"It probably is," muttered George, thinking about Bob, not really admitting it or agreeing with it. He couldn't exactly explain a sense of right and wrong to a robot either. Wasn't all that programmed? "But a lot of people do it the hard way because the people they're borrowing from earned it fairly. Mom just taught me things like that."

He hoped he was making sense. Chadling shrugged and nearly stabbed George in the eye.

"It's OK, I don't think I could understand it anyways."

"At least he's honest," George thought, pushing Chadling's claws away from his face.

"Sorry," said Chadling. "Having claws can be a little hard sometimes. But what else did your Mom talk about?"

There was a scratching noise as Mega Man pushed in another massive container of ice cream. Considering it was about five times his size, George could never imagine doing anything like pushing it. It must weigh a few tons!

"Yeah, you were thinking about something your Mom said earlier," said Mega Man without the slightest sound of strain in his voice. "What was it?"

George gave a small smile.

"I was thinking about something she used to talk about a lot," he explained. "She talked a lot to me and Bob about having goals. That's why she was really proud when I got to become a superhero. She told me it meant I had found something good to do, even though it wasn't my favorite job."

Mega Man and Chadling were in nothing short of awe. It was such an automatic and human reaction he didn't know why he was uncomfortable again about it coming from a bunch of wires and programming, that was based off the wires and programming of an old series of NES games.

"Cool!" said Mega Man, which suprised George because technically, Mega Man was the superhero of this dimension.

"You were a superhero?" asked Chadling at the same time. "Neat! So you fought supervillains like Mynd a lot? Did they have robots that turned into demons too?"

"Well," George said, finding himself grinning and unable to help himself, "A lot of them had whole armies of robots they sent out to fight us."

"I never liked that part," Mega Man whispered to himself. "Did they have Robot Masters leading them?"

"No, just some evil leader planning world domination. Robots don't lead robots at home."

"Did you make friends with any of them?" asked Chadling. It was such an obvious question, but it caught George completely off guard.

"Erm, no, not really..."

The conversation quickly became very awkward. Robots were always cannon fodder to him and his fellow superheroes. It was just one of those things he didn't think about, but George knew that the robots back in his home dimension were probably nothing like the robots here.

"I never made friends with the robots I fought, either," explains Mega Man calmly, like this was a normal topic to discuss over ice cream. "They were never very talkative, so I usually just blew through them without a second thought. They're all evil anyways."

How could he be so casual about killing his own kind? It was bad enough when George thought about himself doing it, but Mega Man was a robot already. He cleared his throat, hoping to change the topic.

"Anyways, yeah, I was a superhero back in my home dimension. Like I said, it was one of the things Mom was proud of because of how much she talked about having a goal."

He stretched, finding himself getting tired already, and Chadling stretched too a minute later even though he probably wasn't tired and again nearly stabbed George in the face. George ducked instinctively and there was a "pop" to his left as Mega Man effortlessly pulled off the lid to the massive container of ice cream. Chadling jumped off towards it. George put his hand to his chin and thought, mostly about why he was thinking about home this much. He didn't want to flip burgers again, Mom was a demanding black blob, Bob wasn't back yet, and he had more friends here than anywhere else (he wasn't sure if that was in order of importance or not), so why would he be homesick?

"Hey, Mega Man, Chadling," George asked in a way that wasn't suprisingly thoughtful considering how today had been, "do you have any goals?"

"Goals?" Mega Man replies, peeking out from the edge of the canister. "Well... My primary mission is to destroy the evil robots and stop Dr. Wily."

George noticed how recited this sounded, and knew it was better not to dwell on it.

"My secondary mission is to be an idiot."

Dr. Light had a strange way of programming things, that was for sure. George laughed.

"Well, it is!" replied Mega Man, offended. "I don't make fun of the way you're programmed."

"My mission is to kill things for Mynd," interrupted Chadling. "But I like the 'do stupid things and eat ice cream all day' one a lot better."

George had never thought of his goals in life as "missions" before, and that sounded strange enough. It also struck him as a little odd that Chadling was able to resist Mynd's programming in the first place. Was it a fluke, a bug in the programming? Was Mynd advanced enough to give Chadling free will or did it develop by itself? Of course, there was the obvious answer, that this was a plot device from the Author for the sake of the story, like a lot of things. The comic never seems planned, but it always turned out that everything that happens has some underlying purpose to his storylines. Like Bob and himself getting here, now that he thought about it. Like George in general, even.

This was getting to be a very uncomfortable train of thought.

"Erm, let's go back to eating..." asked George, turning towards their confused and worried stares.

"Yeah, my energy is only half full anyways," agreed Mega Man, and Chadling nodded.

"That last villain took a lot out of me."

George agreed, resisting a shudder. Whether it was the thoughts on the Author or the honest reminder that his friends were robots, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that ice cream would get his mind off things.

Something he needed right now. This was why he preferred not to think. 


	2. Doors

White.

White.

WhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhitewhiteSHIT, it's everywhere.

I already hate white. Damn boring color, I'd take black any day or even purple. It makes me look like him. Good thing, bad thing, I don't care, I just like the color.

Need to focus. He probably sent me here on purpose, where I can't look anywhere without seeing white. Not that I won't find some way out of this.

It just might take a while.

-------------

"Hey there!"

"Shut up."

"Still mad? You haven't done your job yet. It's boring just having you standing in the blurb growling at the audience."

"I don't care what you have to say. I'm not doing a damn thing for you."

"Your quips would be good for readership, you know!"

"Screw readership. Why don't you come down here and do it yourself?"

"You know I'm not even close to as wonderfully witty, snarky, and evil as you are. Besides, I'm busy. I can't be in two places at once."

"Yes, you can."

"But I don't feel like it. Not my job. We all have something to do in this comic!"

"Then what is your job?"

"Oh, you know. Make sure everythings in order every few months. Drink. Drink some more. Repeat."

"Screw you."

"Hey, it's my comic, not yours. Anyways, if you don't do it, you're never going to get out of here."

"Like you'd let me out of here."

"Probably not. I'd have to think it over."

-------------

A door. I managed to make a door. Of course, it's white, like everything else in this forsaken, useless, frustrating wasteland of a whatever-it-is he's thrown me in.

Eh. I should be able to get out of here now, that's all that matters. If this door leads anywhere.

I open the white and it doesn't lead to another room, just more white. Walking through it doesn't do anything either.

Someone claps. I know who already, but there's no purple. Just more white.

"Congratulations! You didn't think that would work, did you?"

------------

"Dave is a total hack, constantly hoping no one notices."

"And he's a lying bastard!"

"About time you showed up. I'm getting damn sick of all this white."

"I didn't show up to get you out of here. I just couldn't miss the potential punchline. And don't call me Dave."

------------

I uselessly grab at nothing, at that damn void of disgusting white. His stupid comic is clawing at my mind at every second. So is he.

"What are you trying to do, tear a hole in it? You're getting really desperate."

"I'm going to kill you when I get out of here."

"Yeah, have fun trying that."

------------

"I don't condone murder, but it might be the only way to stop them."

Something appears underneath me as I say it. It's the only time I've actually seen something that isn't him (he doesn't count) in this place, and it's... letters. Giant letters.

"Please, oh please, don't go out and kill people. That would make Dave very sad."

Good. I hope I inspired somebody.

-------------

"Can you get your comic out of my head? I don't want to be one of the mindless living-at-home losers you call readers."

"It gives you something to do, doesn't it? Besides, they like the topical commentary you provide!"

"On those geeky Star Wars references you keep spilling out? The faster I get out of here, the better."

"Sorry, Obi-Wan, it turns out I'm your only hope."

"Shut-"

"Up, I know."

---------------

"I need you to do a favor! And since you're occupied doing nothing, you're the best person to ask."

"Get Freakadave to do it."

"Him? It'd be funny, but it'd probably end up being played backwards. Or sung by a dog. That sounds great, though! Subliminal advertising! But I'm already talking to you."

"You're not going to go until I do it, are you?"

"Do I ever? Now, all I need you to do is tell the readers that I'm entitled to a social life, it's my comic, and that I'm doing them a favor by updating for a bunch of complete strangers."

"You're kidding."

"It has to be sincere if you're saying it! You're definitely the best one to do it."

"No."

"I'll give you something for it. That sound good? And no, you aren't getting out of here."

"What?"

"I'll come up with something. Clean thoughts."

"So-"

"None of that. But I'm sure you could do with someone else here. It might even make your quips better!"

"Well, shit, you've got me there... Fine."

"Could you do it two days in a row?"

"Absolutely no-"

"You're getting something out of it."

"Screw-"

"Me, I know. Profane insults don't work when I already know what you're saying."

"Fine!"

--------------

That was absolutely the most humiliating thing I've ever done and probably will ever do.

"You promised me something."

"I did? Oh right, yeah. In a few months."

Definitely the most humiliating thing I've ever done.

--------------

I ran. I ran some more. I ran and ran and ran and ran because no dimension can possibly go on forever.

"Not any you're used to. Enjoying the exercise?"

"Get the hell out of my head."

"I can't, you know that."

-------------

I tried focusing, to get out, but unfortunately Dave seems to have inspired something in a certain someone else. The sound of the singing dog hasn't gone away yet.

"Music to my ears."

"Will you shut that thing up?"

"Oh, let Freakadave have his fun. At least he doesn't complain about all the flaws in his dimension."

"I don't even think he can complain. Missing too many screws, lost his marbles, of course you know the cliches."

"At least he does something. All you'll ever do is a door. And maybe a box. I've got my own comic that I take care of whenever I feel like it. Sometimes."

"I can't do anything in here!"

"You did create that door."

-------------

"Look! I get to be on the front page too! Yay!"

"How the hell did he get in here? How can everyone get through here except me?"

"The whale's mind can't be made and gets sizzled, but moving large rocks just causes heart attacks."

"How can I think when everybody keeps on jumping in here? Why am I even talking to you? Why can I even understand what you're saying?"

"Not only is your derby hat tight, you're frying the motherboard!"

"Would you get out of here?"

"Sure! Wheeeeee..."

-------------

Slam slam slam slam slam

"Hey, stop that! You'll give me a headache."

Slamslamslamsla-

I fall straight forward.

"I know you're frustrated, but creating walls just so you can hit yourself on something seems kind of... self-defeating. Don't you have anything more... productive to do with your time?

"Don't you?"

"Well, no, not really. That's why I'm talking to you. Freakadave is a great conversationalist, but he's a little occupied."

-------------

Finally, I made something I've been wanting. It's almost enough to make me happy to be here, especially if I can make an infinite supply.

"Hey, is that Wily Beer? I think I have a good excuse to come down there sometime now..."

Feelings gone. Especially once I drop it.

------------

I managed to make a door again, and since I'm getting better, maybe I can get to something this time. I open the door and it leads to another door. Which leads to another door. Which leads to another door. Which leads to another door.

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different response. Not very creative with all the doors either."

"This is like a cartoon."

"We're all cartoons here, Alice."

-------------

"Why are you projecting your fanmail into my head now? And how do you even get fanmail?"

"Some of them are funny. I find it's just more amusement."

"I find that your fans' spelling is enough to make me weep. Says a lot about your fanbase, doesn't it?"

"Yep! Lazy, lazy. My kind of people."

-------------

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

"What, you mean that we're all in your little dimension here together just because we all enjoy watching shit blow up? Of course, I made the shit blow up in the first place..."

"Wooo! I love special comics!"

"Even Freakadave is here."

"I'm only glad he's here because he brought the popcorn."

"The dodos died lonely because they never tried to leave."

"That's a good point, Freakadave. Helmut, just stop mumbling and enjoy the show."

-------------

"It's disgusting that I actually yelled with you both at Mynd dying."

"I guess you didn't enjoy it as much as I thought you did?"

"No."

"You wouldn't admit it anyways, would you?"

-------------

It turns out you eventually start to get used to white after a while, especially a few years, but I still don't like it. I prefer to look at myself whenever possible and remind myself that I'm not going colorblind. Making those quips for the blurb is getting boring.

It doesn't help when I see purple that definitely isn't myself but can't be who I think it is, and definitely can't be walking through one of those ancient white doors I made years ago. And I have to be hallucinating that he's offering a hand. And smiling.

"Hey, come on. I don't think you want to just stay here."

"What are you doing?"

"Letting you out. You know how those union rules are."

Don't think for a second that I smiled back. 


	3. Mimicry

He had been afraid before a few times, yeah. He wasn't as cocky as his brother, he wouldn't say he was fearless. Especially when he knew his brother had some very odd phobias.

But this was really new to him, if you know what he means, and he'd probably say so if he could find the words. He already knew it was coming before he even came in: He was going to be in disguise as the creator of the universe. Sounded like an odd disguise to him. Since when did the creators of dimensions actually show up in the flesh, much less in old Megaman games? Did they even show up in the flesh, or were they glowing spirit triangles or balls of light or whatever, like in Zelda?

He wasn't either of those, though. Whoever this creator of the universe was, he looked human, wore purple (he nearly laughed at that when he arrived. Whoever ran this universe obviously never heard of subtext) and had the oddest line going down from above his ear to his shoulder. Anyways, he had a few things to be afraid of.

If he was caught, for example, he didn't know how this universal creator guy's powers worked, if he even had any. What about if one of the other people here asked him to, who knows, make walls or ice cream or set things on fire or blow something up or teleport or something? He really should have thought this through a little more... Going as the creator of the universe sounded really cool on paper.

And what if he actually met this guy? What if it was unusual for him to even be down here? What if he got stuck here and was forced to fake God for a while? Maybe this universe was violent! He'd be killed! Maybe the creator was violent, and could wipe him out with a snap of a finger, or the blink of an eye, or a nose-wiggle or dance or whatever creators did to activate their powers.

"Well," he reminds himself, "I'll probably find out if I stick here. I should just get Bob and get out."

Deja vu. He never liked fetching his younger brother at home. But how he was going to tackle this one? Everything was so flat and one-colored, he might not be able to find his way back even if he tried, and he didn't have the slightest clue where to start looking. On the bright side of things, if the creator of the universe was too lazy to add scenery, maybe he was too lazy to kill him. He decided to ignore the amused snort he heard. Obviously stress.

Plan 1: Try to blend in until Bob makes himself noticed (good plan since that would take about three seconds), then get Bob and get out of here before Bob gets home first or the real creator of the universe shows up. Wait, that didn't make sense. Do Gods try to blend in? Would he look suspicious? Maybe he could find some way to make smoke and appear dramatically? Or pretend he had memory loss and ask what he usually did? Except if he wasn't supposed to manifest himself, then he wouldn't normally do anything and someone would arrest him for being crazy.

Man, his plans suck. Might as well find someone to blend in with. The Megaman universe, if he remembers correctly, doesn't have a lot of NPCs. There's probably just Dr. Light and Roll and them. Who he notices conveniently standing in the distance, directly in front of him. Very directly. So directly it took him a few seconds to notice almost everything went in two directions. God was definitely very lazy, and this place wasn't very large anyways. This almost seemed planned.

But now what? He had no idea what to do if he was there. Was he supposed to appear dramatically with a loud "PFOOF" sound and a flash of light, yelling "TA-DA!" or something equally inane? Was he just another person that controlled the universe in his spare time? Was he supposed to stare over their shoulders and tell them it was their time to die? Was he even invisible?

When he stopped thinking and opened his eyes, he realized he should really stop walking while thinking. Nobody seemed to notice him, though, which was really strange but kind of nice. The best thing to do, he decides, is to just stand behind Rush (who he always remembered as looking smaller and with less colors on the NES), and maybe put on a blank frown-like expression that seemed to be standard around here. The less he stood out, the better. Hey, was that Mega Man? That was Mega Man! No time to have any unmanly fan moments though. He was sure he could say "Hi" on the way back, once he got Bob.

Proto Man had just jumped down, and there was someone just behind Mega Man he couldn't see too clearly. He'd get a better look if everything was more three-dimensional.

"Mega Man! Author!" yelled Proto Man as he landed. "We've been looking all over for you!"

Arthur? When was there a Mega Man character named Arthur? Much less somebody important enough to have the whole cast around just to look for. When did Dr. Light bother coming out to do anything?

"I see you finally stopped running, but what made you start in the first place?" he continued, not sounding at all like George thought he would. It sounded better in his head.

"I asked him the same thing, but he said he forgot," said another voice that sounds oddly familiar.

"Sounds like him. Anyways, we-"

George was distracted by Mega Man squinting at him. He wasn't doing anything too suspicous, was he?

"Mega Man? You look confused. What's the matter?"

The strangest thing happened. And he'd seen plenty of strange things. The color of the walls washed over, turning from light blue to light green in what could only be called a "blink-and-you-miss-it-moment". That definitely didn't happen back home or in the games. He was in the right universe, wasn't he?

"I am confused," replies Mega Man (who George is glad doesn't sound like a girl), probably squinting at that other person he couldn't see yet. Like a lightbulb goes off, he moves into a defensive stance. Or maybe an accusing one.

"How can you be standing over there, when..."

This sounds like one of those old murder mysteries, except nobody dies in the Mega Man universe. Unless it's the X-verse. And then Zero doesn't count.

"You're standing over there?!" he screams, dramatically pointing (or more accurately swinging a hand) at George, who also moves into a defensive pose. So does God, or Arthur, or author, who George could see clearly now for some reason.

"Shit!" mutter both at the same time.

"I am so screwed..." thinks George. "This Author guy is going to find me out and destroy me!"

Strangely, nobody else seems to react. Proto Man reacts so calmly George can't help but wonder if this is normal in this universe, and he's pretty sure none of this is.

"All right, just one minute. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

At least somebody has a plan. Maybe this would be easy after all.

"First, the second Author should join the first so we can't tell you apart."

Huh?

"Okay, now all of us secondary characters are going to take off."

But that didn't even make...

"What?! Why?!" yells a confused Mega Man before I can.

"If you have to deal with this alone, it'll obviously be funnier."

"Damn! He's got me there!"

George quickly files everyone in this universe under "unstable", which doesn't bode well for the personality of the author himself.

"Anyway," continues Proto Man as if nothing is wrong. "I'm taking off now. Have fun with the twins."

Mega Man stares at them for a long time, unmoving, almost as if to waste time for something, and then speaks abruptly.

"All right. Which one of you is the real Author?"

George reacts on instinct and hopes nobody notices if his voice sounds different.

"I am!" they both yell in perfect stereo, sounding eerily alike.

Mega Man smacks his helmet.

"Damn it... Okay, wait. Both of you can't be the author."

"Right," say both in a perfect match. George wonders if this creator of the universe is doing this on purpose. Maybe to make it a more satisfying kill when he gets caught. Which he knows he will.

"So which one of you is the real Author?"

"I am."

"Then which one is the imposter?"

"He is."

Looney Tunes, Bugs Bunny, duck season, rabbit season, duck season, duck season, rabbit season, fire.

"Damn it all! This isn't getting me anywhere! Why do I even bother? Fine, if talking doesn't help, we'll just do things my way. With stupid brute force!"

He lifts his blaster at them, which was a hand a second ago. George didn't even notice the change.

"Uh-oh!" they both yell at once, but why would the creator of the universe be afraid of a few plasma shots? "Mega Man! Behind you!"

"Huh?! What?!"

Very Looney Tunes. George can't resist finishing the joke, and apparently the Author can't either.

"Zoink!"

They both run, and run, and run, but George can't help but feel they aren't going anywhere, since there still isn't any scenery. The real Author then stops, and George knows he's going to die now. Sorry, Mom.

"Okay, I think we're in the clear now. Now, perhaps you'd like to explain who you really are."

OhgodohgodohgodnothinglikeBobbestrongGeorgethinkconfidently

"Why should I tell you?" he tries, but his voice cracks slightly.

"Because I'm the one with the blaster, you imposter," threatens the creator of the universe, and George wonders why he doesn't threaten to just wipe him out of existence. God obviously preferred guns. He really was violent!

"Okay," George says, all confidence gone and surrendering, "that works for me."

He tries another plan, forgetting in the moment that his plans tend to suck.

"Wait just a minute!" he yells. He had read about this somewhere, it was called "inverse psychobabble" or something. "How do I know you're really the Author?"

"What?" replies the person undoubtedly the Author, because he couldn't be anyone else. George's plot was apparently so bad it had even baffled God. He was so, so dead.

"What proof do you have that you're really the Author?" George tries anyways.

"Um," says the Author, using a very human phrase he never would have imagined from God. There was a famous list on the internet back home of "Things You'd Never Want To Hear God Say" and this was probably one of them. "I can do this..."

With two loud "PFOOF!"s (he really does use that sound effect!), the Author vanishes in a Photoshop-esque lens flare and reappears behind him.

"Good enough for you?" says the Author. George didn't know what was more confusing. That even the Author's own effects looked lazy, or that he was obviously showing off. 


	4. Robots Eating Ice Cream

With absolutely, positively, and most certainly-without-a-doubt nothing better to do, Mega Man, his supposed mortal enemy, a Slash Man recolor, and a lightning-powered demigod, sat around stacks of unmelted containers of ice cream, stacks of which reached many tens of times their height.

"This is boring," complains Mega Man. "Why can't we go look at your Transformers collection, Bass?"

"It got blown up last time you beat Dad's giant robot, remember?" Bass explains, sighing. Chadling climbs onto the top of the stack, and pokes his claws into one of the open containers.

"If only the Author liked ice cream," mutters Mega Man as Chadling impales the container. "He might help us..."

"Who says he doesn't?" adds George, juggling a ball of lightning he manages to create between his hands. "I mean, he gave you your love of ice cream, right?"

"Yeah, but Bob doesn't like ice cream," says Bass, as Chadling desperately tries to shake, kick, and pull the container off the end of his claw. "And he calls Bob his Mary Sue..."

In shock, George misses his juggle and throws the ball of lightning at the sky. The claw that Chadling is trying to get the ice cream off of becomes singed. Then the container becomes ablaze.

"He calls Bob what?" George says, resisting an amused smirk but not managing to stop completly manly giggling, that turns into chuckles, that begins to turn into crazed roars of laughter. "Mary Sue! He calls Bob Mary! Imagine if Bob knew!"

Bass raises an eyebrow, and Mega Man gives a small chuckle but doesn't laugh even as George becomes crazier and crazier. Neither of them seem to have found out what's so funny. In the background, Chadling falls off the stack of containers while trying to bash the fire against the side of them, and the containers go down like a deck of cards. Plus flying Slash Man recolor.

Both Mega Man and Bass jump up, George begins to cry and clutch his sides, and Chadling is still on fire. The first two run towards Chadling and the tempting stack of still unmelted ice cream. Bass becomes distracted and goes to find out if ice cream melts if you shoot it with plasma.

"Hey Chadling, are you alright?" asks Mega Man, asking the obvious question considering Chadling is becoming increasingly more ablaze. As if to fight the obvious answer, however, Chadling simply stands up.

"I'm fiNE," he says, his normally childish voice becoming deep and slurred like a villain in an old B-movie. "BuT tHAt FAll rEAlly huRT. I tHINk iT daMAgeD my PaiN reCEptORS."

"Oh, OK," says Mega Man, as if this situation is not strange in the slightest. "Did the fire melt the ice cream, at least?"

"YeAH, but SUDdeNly i'M noT HUNgRY."

Now Mega Man looks shocked.

"What?!" he yells. "Not hungry for ice cream? Something must be wrong with your processors! You should go see Dr. Light!"

Chadling nods and walks off.

"Just look out for flying parts!" Mega Man reminds him, before turning towards Bass. "Especially if he's drunk!"

"Aww..." whines Bass, as George yells something about "Be my Mary Sue, Bob" in the background. Bass, at this point, is standing with blaster aimed at the ashy remains of what was once an ice cream container. "You can't melt them with plasma shots."

"You're not supposed to hurt ice cream containers, Bass! Only evil robots!"

"Oh, right," he replies, reforming his arm. "But I'm supposed to hurt you and I don't do it."

"I'm not an evil robot," huffs Mega Man, crossing his arms.

"Of course you're not an evil robot," says Bass, looking offended. "I just want some ice cream, though."

"Yeah," says Mega Man, with a nod. "But it takes a while to get it to melt... Maybe we can use George!"

"Yeah!" agrees Bass, throwing a hand into the air. "He loves ice cream! He'd love to help!"

"I'll go get him," he says, as Bass runs off to get his hand.

Mega Man climbs through a sea of fallen ice cream containers, and reaches George again, who is now sitting down. Able to do nothing but stare as George continues to laugh like an acid trip gone horribly wrong, Mega Man realizes that if this was the comic, it'd probably just be four panels of the same thing. Laziest comic ever.

"I don't want to be your Mary Sue, Author!" says George gruffly between guffaws, doing a bad imitation of Bob and holding up a hand as a makeshift puppet. "Go make an actual woman in this comic that isn't underage!"

He changes voices, something vaguely like his but slightly lower-pitched. He raises the other hand.

"But Bob, you're the only one for me! Could't you tell this was going to happen by my purple outfit and strange sound effects? And we were in the same panel sometimes! You're my soulmate!"

George rolls slightly and falls onto the ground again, slight bolts of electricity jumping across his body as he laughs like this unintended joke is the funniest thing in any dimension ever.

Mega Man decides this a good time to leave, and Bass returns, plus his hand.

"Well, any other ideas?" asks Bass.

"Erm..." says Mega Man, rubbing a hand against his chin. "We could use my, um, whatsit microwave..."

"You have a whatsit microwave?" says Bass. "I wish I had one of those."

"Yeah, but I've never used it. Hold on..."

There is a slight DING, and a numberpad pops out of Mega Man's stomach. Another DING and a door opens, complete with quaint napkin, lightbulb, and a melted can of beer. Mega Man pulls the beer out of his microwave-stomach and throws it, and Bass runs off to get the ice cream.

"Why won't you love me, Bob?" yells George in the background, wiping tears from his eyes.

Bass returns with as much ice cream as his arms can carry, stuffing it all into Mega Man's open "whatsit microwave." Closing it, they both stare at it, unsure of what to do.

"Um, press the buttons.." tries Mega Man. "I think the first two numbers are hours, and the last two are minutes, so set it to 1:30?"

"OK," says Bass, nodding, and he does. Mega Man holds back a cry of "Don't do that" and childish laughing at Bass pushes button on his stomach. Not noticing, Bass then sits down and stares at Mega Man's microwave.

Four minutes later, George walks over, wiping tears from his eyes.

"I have to tell Bob that sometime," he says, still grinning, "if I see him again soon. His reaction-"

He sniffs the air.

"What's that smell?"

"We're cooking ice cream," Bass responds sagely, not turning around. George blinks. Even he's smart enough to...

"But most of the ice cream has mel-"

"Shh!" says Bass, lifting a finger to his mouth. "This requires concentrate. I mean, concentration."

Bass squints at the ice cream hard, as if hoping to suddenly gain heat vision. George shrugs and leaves.

-------------

An hour and a half of very intense squinting action later, Bass cheers as there is a distorted DING and the microwave opens up. Bass, and the entire room, is quickly engulfed by a deluge of black smoke, dust, and what looks vaguely like a completely liquified container of ice cream.

"It's done!" Bass says happily, scooping some into his hands. Mega Man, who hasn't moved the entire time, does nothing, even as Bass waves the whatever-it-is into his face. "Come on, Mega Man!"

Mega Man doesn't move. Chadling comes back, walks over, and pokes him in the forehead with a claw. There is a dramatic creak, then a CLUNK as Mega Man hits the ground.

"My highly advanced internal sensors have detected a problem..."

"Oh no! I killed him!"

------------

When Mega Man finally wakes up again, he gets up only to hit his head on the cieling. Wincing and rubbing his forehead, he looks around and is greeted with the biggest collection of Transformers the world has probably ever seen. And Bass.

"Oh, hi, Mega Man!" says Bass, waving. I wasn't sure what to do, so I decided to show you off to my friends as a new transformer! Cool, huh?"

"Err... sure, OK. Where'd you get all these from?"

------------

"AUTHOR!"

There is a familiar flash of photoshopped light and a distinct "PFOOF". The man in question is then standing on the cieling, upside-down.

"Hey, Bob!" he says, friendly. "What are you complaining about today?"

"I'm your who?" growls Bob. 


End file.
